A Need For Contact
by LittleMewLugia
Summary: When Optimus Prime receives some shocking news, he realises that he must try to reach out to an enemy, for nobody deserves to live and die alone.
1. Chapter 1

A Need For Contact

A Need For Contact.

Summary: When Optimus Prime receives some shocking news, he realises that he must try to reach out to an enemy, for nobody deserves to live and die alone.

Rating: M for adult content.

Warnings: Character death in prologue, but not after that.

Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro and Dreamworks/Paramount, not me.

Pairings: Optimus/Barricade.

A/N: The science for this story is very shaky, but until I can find a better reason for the following events, it'll have to stay this way.

A Need for Contact.

Prologue.

A year after the events of Mission City.

There was a knock on Optimus' office door.

"Come in." he said in measured tones. In walked the two latest arrivals to the Autobot base, Wheeljack and Perceptor.

They had arrived two months previously, and had brought with them two hideously degraded Cybertronian bodies they had found in space, a light year or so away from the Earth's solar system. Perceptor had been able to encapsulate them in a quarantined force-field before bringing them down to Earth, and he and Wheeljack had been working on finding out what had caused the degradation of the metals.

"We have ascertained the cause of the degradation on the bodies." said Wheeljack.

Optimus was surprised, for working on materials in quarantine was a painstakingly long process, he knew.

"I would like to hear your conclusions." He said.

"The cause of the degradation is due to a combination of an element we have never seen before but seems to be a component of this planet's atmosphere, and a bacterium also fairly abundant on this world." Wheeljack stated. "The combination is harmless within this planet's atmosphere, but when the bacterium is exposed to vacuum, they explode and die, and a chemical reaction between the element - which appears to have an affinity for Cybertronian metals and will build upon them - and enzymes within the bacterium combine to form an acid which eats away at and weakens our structures until we can no longer hold our structural integrity. We are safe so long as we stay within this planet's atmosphere, which means we are trapped here until Ratchet and I can find a way of dealing with this problem-which could take centuries."

"You say that this condition is a problem that would exclusively affect Cybertronians who have been to Earth?" asked Optimus, a sharp note entering his voice.

"Yes." said Perceptor. "That is what our studies suggest, so we have dropped the quarantine since we are all effectively infected already. None of us should risk leaving the planet until Ratchet finds a certain method to protect us from the degradation."

"I want you to examine the two bodies you found and find out, if possible, their identities." Optimus said.

"We know who they were already, Ratchet was able to look at their processors and systems." said Perceptor.

"They were Starscream and Scorponok."

Optimus took a breath as Perceptor paused."

"It seems Starscream had some idea of what was happening and managed to send out a message that any Decepticon out in space would have received." Perceptor continued. "It orders them to avoid this planet at all costs."

"When did this happen?" asked Optimus.

"The message was sent nine months ago," said Wheeljack.

"That could explain why Barricade has been seen cruising around near our base." Optimus stated. "All of his companions on Earth – Megatron, Frenzy, Blackout, Brawl, and Bonecrusher - were killed, and now we know that Starscream and Scorponok are also dead."

Optimus blinked twice. "We all assumed he'd had orders from Starscream to spy on us when he started this behaviour four months earlier." Optimus said. "As we have the force-field, which has a scrambling signal running through it, we ignored it. However, from what you say, that is impossible. I wonder if he's driven to watch us by loneliness?" Optimus pondered this for a moment.

"I cannot leave the situation as it is. I shall go out and attempt to contact Barricade. He at least deserves to know what has happened to Starscream and Scorponok, and he also deserves to know that it is highly unlikely that any other Decepticons will be coming to Earth."

Optimus stood.

"I will go and talk to Ironhide. If Barricade is seen in this area, I want to know about it."

He beckoned the other two to follow, and then he went out.


	2. Chapter 2

A Need For Contact

Chapter One

Optimus did not have long to wait. He was contacted by Ironhide two hours later.

"He's back, Sir, parked almost out of sight." Ironhide told him.

Optimus knew that Barricade would run off if he approached too closely. He had the information (and some of the data that provided proof, for example, a copy of the message that Starscream had composed and sent out before he had ceased to function) stored in a form that he could databurst to the Decepticon: even if he was to run off, he had a right to know. Also included on the databurst was an invitation to approach the Autobot base, with a possibility of being allowed in and allowed to stay if he promised not to attack or harm anyone else inside.

Starscream had left the planet a few days after the Mission City incident, presumably taking Scorponok with him: it seemed that Barricade had been alone for almost as full Earth year. That was not an extreme amount of time for beings as long-lived as they were, but it was one thing to survive a protracted wait without company when you were expecting someone to turn up, but what Barricade was facing was a protracted wait with little or no chance of anyone else coming to him at all. Optimus could not leave Barricade so alone like that, hence the invitation to come to the Base.

Optimus was certain that Barricade would not immediately take him up on his offer, and might not ever, but the invitation was there, and Optimus had made it quite clear within that there was no time limit or expiry date on the invitation: Barricade could turn up a day later or a few millennia later, and if the Autobots were still there on Earth, they would accept his arrival. Optimus just hoped that Barricade would not despair and heads out into space, choosing to die rather than face life either alone or living amongst Autobots.

He slowly exited the Base, the information ready to send. He could see Barricade, and kept a careful watch for the slightest sign that Barricade was going to bolt. He kept his pace slow and his hands in sight as he approached, hoping Barricade would realise that his pace and openness meant that he intended Barricade no harm.

He got closer than he thought he might before Barricade's engine started: Optimus immediately stopped and took a step backwards. Barricade's engine did not stop, but he also did not immediately leave. An aggressive query was databurst to him.

'What do you want?'

Optimus responded with a databurst of his own.

'I come, regretfully, as the bearer of bad news. It is not news you will want to hear, but it is your right to know what we have discovered." With that, he sent the carefully put-together databurst to Barricade.

For a few seconds, there was no reaction, then Barricade's engine purr increased to a roar, and Barricade, with a squeal of tires and no regard for the speed limit, accelerated away. Optimus turned and headed back into the base. The invitation had been issued: now all they could do was wait.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

It was two weeks later that Barricade turned up again, very close to the spot where he had last encountered him, but with one major difference: he was in robot form.

Upon being told, Optimus went out, hoping that the Decepticon had decided to accept his offer. Again, as before, he approached slowly, and with no weapons out or ready to be brought out, and this time Barricade allowed him to approach until they were barely ten feet apart. This was where Optimus stopped, not wanting to seem threatening by approaching closer.

Barricade was the first to speak

"My Spark does not ache for the loss of Starscream. He despised me, just as I despised him." Barricade said. "I never really got to know Scorponok, so I do not grieve over his loss either."

"I am sorry to have been the bearer of such bad news." Optimus said. "Have you given my invitation any thought? We have recharging berths that would be at your disposal, and Ratchet brews very good energon. The organic fuels of this planet give it a unique, and not at all unpleasant, taste."

Barricade looked up at Optimus.

"You expect me to come here and _beg_ to you Autobots to be taken in? That will _never_ happen!" The stinging tone of his voice was not at all unexpected, neither was the defiant announcement, but Optimus could see the longing in those bright optics that locked with his, and he fully understood what was going on here: Barricade wanted to accept the invitation,_ longed_ to, but his pride would not allow him to accept.

Well, there was an answer to_ that_ one.

Optimus leaned forwards from the waist as he took one large, swift step, closing the distance between them, the advantage of surprise allowing him to grab Barricade's wrists and push them behind his back, transferring both wrists into one of his own large hands. His other arm then crossed over Barricade's back diagonally, the other hand grabbing Barricade's opposite leg, acting as both restraint and support as he straightened, lifting Barricade up so he could hold him up against his chest. He spoke.

"Decepticon Barricade, I am taking you as a prisoner. We Autobots are signatories to the Treaty of Iacon, and as set out in Protocol Three, you will not be mistreated or abused, and will be given free access to fuel, recharging facilities, and will be kept in conditions that will not be detrimental to your health or function. As is also stated in Protocol three, any repairs you require or medical needs will also be provided."

Optimus strode back towards the base with his now-struggling captive, convinced that pride had been satisfied, and equally convinced that Barricade was not struggling as hard as he might have done had he really wanted to escape from Optimus' grip.

As he entered the base he saw Prowl. The tactician was surprised to see Optimus carrying Barricade in, but did not query it, merely accompanied Optimus to his office, opening the door for him.

"I am going to tell this prisoner his full rights under Protocol Three of the Treaty of Iacon, give him some fuel, and then take him to Ratchet to have his health assessed and any repairs needed can be carried out." Optimus told Prowl. "Inform everybody that I am not to be disturbed except for matters that arise that cannot wait a few hours. There is nothing currently requiring my immediate attention, and I cannot see anything else being likely to come up."

"Yes, Leader Prime, I shall see to it immediately." Said Prowl, standing aside so Optimus could go in his office. As the door slid shut, Prowl went off to carry out Optimus' instructions.

Optimus set Barricade down once he was in the room, locking the door, and went over to the energon dispenser on the wall. He filled a mug and handed it to Barricade.

"As promised, some fuel. There are also standard earthly fuels, and this will also be available to you as and when you need it. Now, as I promised, I will tell you your full rights as a prisoner under the Treaty. I hope that perhaps we can change your status to 'guest', but that decision will be yours to make, or not make, in your own time."

Optimus explained Barricade's rights under Protocol Three, but Barricade paid only cursory attention, Optimus noticed. Barricade obviously knew that the Autobots did not mistreat their prisoners, just as he obviously knew the whole 'prisoner' label was only there to satisfy his pride.

When Optimus had finished, Barricade took a mouthful of energon, and gave a small chuckle.

"You remind me of Megatron." He stated.

Optimus almost dropped his own mug of energon, blinking rapidly.

_That_ had been an unexpected comparison.

"Explain." Optimus said. "I do not see how I could remind you of Megatron. My brother and I were opposites, even in peacetime. We rarely ever agreed about anything."

"If there is one thing I knew about when serving under Megatron, it was that I knew where I stood. Now I am here, in your Base, and again, in relation to you, I know where I stand. There is no uncertainty, no doubt." He said.

He moved over towards Optimus, putting down his energon. He raised a hand to Optimus' chest, trailing it down his grillework lightly.

"You started that under the Treaty, my emotional and physical needs will be catered to." He said.

Optimus nodded: he knew what Barricade felt the need for: contact, but once again his pride was stopping him from asking, so Optimus merely dropped into one of the assorted seats that would take a mech of his size so that he would be optic-to-optic with the standing Decepticon, drawing him over with him. He reached his arms around Barricade, drawing him to his chest, opening his legs so that Barricade could stand between them and not be held in an awkward position. If Barricade wished to pull away, Optimus wanted him to be able to.

Barricade did not pull away: on the contrary, he pressed closer in to Optimus' chest, raising a hand which he carefully pressed against and drew down one of Optimus' doors, the claws very delicately trailing down, making Optimus' hide tingle and his Spark flicker.

'_Primus! Does Barricade know the effect his touch is having on me?'_ Optimus wondered, surprised at his reactions. _'No.'_ Optimus thought. _'He doesn't. He needs the contact, he won't be thinking of anything else.'_

He reacted by holding Barricade close with one arm, and using the other to stroke one of Barricade's arms. One of Barricade's hands continued caressing Optimus' door, up and down, and the other suddenly snaked around and began rubbing Optimus' back in what was unmistakeably a sensuous manner. Like all mechs, Optimus' back was sensitive, and he could not suppress a moan of pleasure as he threw his head back and his optics began to shutter. His own hands moved to caress Barricade's back, and Barricade, too was soon twitching and gasping in pleasure under Optimus' experienced hands.

Time ceased to matter to the two intertwined mechs, minutes or hours could have passed as they ran hands over each other, not just over the back but along exposed joints and wires, down each other's limbs and over each other's heads. Fingers glided along antennae and teased dorsal data ports, traced around optics and over mouths, lightly caressed cheek plating and the juncture of neck and torso.

It was when Barricade pulled away slightly, moving his hand to loosen his own chest catches that Optimus realised that this had to stop. Barricade had been without touch too long, and was confusing his need for touch with a desire for Spark-merge. This was too quick, and Optimus did not want Barricade to feel used. He himself would have certainly been willing to continue, but he knew that to do so would be to take advantage of Barricade's overwhelming need for company, for contact with other Cybertronians, for his own selfish reasons. Optimus was not about to take advantage of Barricade in this way, no matter what his own needs were.

He put one hand out, taking Barricade's own, stopping him loosening his own catches.

"No, Barricade, now is not the time. This is _not_ what you need." Optimus said.

"Yes, it is." Barricade whispered. _"Please."_ The begging only served to confirm to Optimus that Barricade was not really ready for what he thought he was. Where was the proud Decepticon whom he'd had to take as a prisoner to get him in this Base?

"I don't think it is." Optimus said. "This is too sudden, too quick, too soon. We don't have to stop _touching_, but it is not the right time to enter Spark-merge." he said.

The smaller mech began to whimper, and Optimus pulled him close, allowing his own chest plating to spread apart just enough that Barricade could feel the warmth of his Spark: Barricade quieted.

"If you still want to Spark-merge a little later, I would be happy to, I am not denying you _forever_, Barricade, but I would prefer to know that it is not just the loneliness that is driving you." Barricade looked up, and Optimus saw understanding in his eyes: he realised what Optimus was saying and saw the sense it made. Optimus continued talking, while still holding Barricade close and slowly stroking his arms, the motion calming rather than sensual.

"For me to Spark-merge with you now, when you are vulnerable, would be against the Treaty: it would be abuse, which I promised you would not happen under the terms of Protocol Three." Optimus stated.

Barricade nodded.

"I understand." He said. "If I come to you another time, when my loneliness has been vanquished, would you allow us to try again?"

Optimus nodded, smiling gently at the Decepticon.

"Of course." He said.

Barricade relaxed, allowing his tension to drain away, and looked up at Optimus.

"Thank you." He said.

(A/N: I fully intended the stroking to lead to Spark-merge, but then realised that in that situation under those conditions, it would be abuse. I cannot see Optimus not realising this or allowing it to continue, so that's why it ends that way: Optimus is WAY too noble to go down that road.

If you want some consensual, hot, smutty, Optimus/Barricade mechsex, let me know and I'll write an epilogue.)


	3. Chapter 3

A Need For Contact

Chapter Three

A/N: The promised Op/'Cade smut will happen, but first it was pointed out to me that it might be interesting to see the rest of the Base's reaction to 'Cade, so that comes first.

They stayed like that for several hours, the only movement from either mech the occasional change of position of an arm or a leg, or a head, as Optimus provided the level of interaction that Barricade needed, but not enough to cross the boundary into potential abuse. After a time, Barricade's grip transferred to Optimus' shoulders as his sense of insecurity lessened.

Optimus gently moved a hand to first cup the back of Barricade's head gently, in a comforting gesture akin to that used to comfort scared Sparklings, then moved it to his shoulder in a gesture that on Cybertron as on Earth, signified comradeship, or intellectual equality, a gesture that told Barricade that that the first gesture was not meant in a patronising manner, but combined with the second gesture was a comfort-gesture from adult to adult.

Optimus did not then remove his hand from Barricade's shoulder as was customary, but ran it down Barricade's arm, and placed his other hand on Barricade's other shoulder as the first hand gently encircled Barricade's wrist, and the second hand ran down Barricade's other arm and encircled his other wrist in a similar fashion – a loose grip not intended to capture or restrain, but made Barricade tense nonetheless.

Optimus' grip stayed light and loose, leaving Barricade with the option to pull his wrist free if he should so wish, and slowly lifted the hand up towards his face. Curious to see what Optimus wanted, Barricade allowed Optimus to continue. Optimus stopped when Barricade's hand was level with his face.

Optimus' battle mask was not raised: he drew Barricade's palm towards his lips, and placed a kiss – and not just a peck – on it, then repeated the action with Barricade's other palm. He kept his optics unshuttered, even though the claws on the tips of Barricade's fingers rested on his optic ridges with each kiss, and if Barricade had wished to, with a quick clench and twist, could have extinguished the light that shone from those beautiful blue optics.

That was when Barricade realised he'd heard of this gesture. It was a trust and respect gesture from one warrior to another. It was one that was not often demonstrated, particularly as the war had dragged on, for it was a gesture that more than one Decepticon had taken advantage of to blind and then despatch an enemy.

Even as the thought that he could himself continue this Decepticon tradition, that maybe Optimus was being too trusting of him, Barricade realised that Optimus' instincts had been perfectly sound. For the first time since joining the Decepticon army, Barricade found somebody who was giving him trust that he didn't want to betray. Optimus had no reason to trust Barricade, particularly as he had proved himself to be an enemy of the Autobots on more than one occasion, yet still he gave him an honour gesture that required trust on his part. Barricade almost laughed at the irony: he, Barricade, the master of betraying a hard-earned trust and enjoying it, wanted Optimus' trust in this case to not be misplaced.

Optimus released Barricade's wrists, sliding his hands down the plating of Barricade's arms again. The hands lifted as Optimus leaned forwards to enclose Barricade in an embrace, an embrace not of passion, but of the same type he'd used to bring him into the base, an embrace that immobilised his arms and legs, an embrace leaving him no room to fight. Abruptly, Barricade himself felt betrayed at this after being given a gesture of trust, and tensed, getting ready to struggle and, if he got free, to fight. As if reading his thoughts – or maybe he was just good at reading body language – Optimus spoke.

"I brought you in as a prisoner. Until I have informed the rest of the Base that you are here, and decided on the amount of freedom you can have, and assigned you a named companion, I cannot allow you to simply walk about the base freely. We have more than one cannon-happy Autobot here, and I do not think that you would like to be subjected to the indignity of having your hand held by me, as if you were a Sparkling who has just found out how to use their ambulatory limbs. Until everybody has been informed, this is how I must transport you." Barricade stopped struggling as he saw the sense in what Optimus was saying, and Optimus strode out of his office, heading in a diagonal up the corridor.

"Where are you taking me?" Barricade asked, as Optimus continued up the corridor, his stride unbroken. His question was answered as the door he stopped in front of opened, and he was taken into a room that was quite obviously Ratchet's med bay.

"As stated in your rights under Protocol Three, you will be checked over and any repairs you need will be carried out." Optimus stated. "You may feel better after recharging as well."

Ratchet approached as Optimus put Barricade down. Barricade tensed, and Ratchet stopped, and moved his hand towards his work surface, palm up, fingers straight. Not exactly a command, but more than an invitation.

Barricade didn't move, and Ratchet sighed, indicating that Optimus should stand aside. Optimus did so, and Ratchet scanned the black and white Decepticon from where he stood.

"You have no major injuries, but there are several minor scars and problems that could do with being seen to. Although you are not close to shutdown, your energy levels would suggest that you would benefit from a few hours in recharge – perhaps half a joor or so." Ratchet translated, although it was likely that Barricade had learned the time-units of this world.

When Barricade still didn't move Ratchet sighed, lifting his hands in the air in frustration.

"I don't know what rumours you've heard, Barricade, but I do not carry out experiments on captives, neither do I physically remodel people, reprogram them, remove Sparks or dismantle Decepticons into spare parts." He waited to let the information sink in, then continued.

"What I _do_ do is repair systems essential to life, make cosmetic alterations that the patient wishes, and all levels of repair in between. I also get to know the limits of my comrade's endurance, suggest they get into recharge when they need it, and if they don't, will physically offline them and drag them into recharge _personally _– don't I, Prime." He said, turning to scowl a little at Optimus, who nodded his head slowly in agreement.

This drew a low chuckle from Barricade, who got a mental image of Ratchet dragging Optimus into a recharge berth by his antennae. He relaxed a little and moved towards Ratchet.

"Then I shall have to trust you and go voluntarily." He said, still a little wary. He turned to look back at Optimus uncertainly, who nodded again.

"No harm will come to you by going with Ratchet, Barricade, I swear by the energy of my own Spark." He assured him.

"I'm a Decepticon, a sworn enemy." Barricade said. "Why would you want to repair me and be certain of my health? Would it not just be easier for you to destroy me?"

Ratchet blew air through his vents noisily, the equivalent of a sigh.

"For the same reason that I would repair the Unmaker if I came across it in need of such attention." Ratchet stated. "I am a _medic._ Faction and affiliation do not define whom and what I repair. The need for such attention _does._ Now, are you going to come to recharge, or must I ask Optimus to pick you up again and bring you for me?"

Barricade almost smiled.

"I'll get by on my own legs, thanks." He said.

"Once you are recharged, I would like to sort out those minor repairs I mentioned earlier and do a thorough check-over. If you want to, I can numb the area requiring attention so you can stay online and make sure I don't do anything you don't want done." Ratchet stated.

"Thank you." Barricade said, surprise and gratitude replacing the sliver of fear that still remained.

"I still cannot yet allow you to roam the base unsupervised, Barricade." Optimus stated. "I shall assign you a companion – a guard, if you like, although I hope that you will not give any of us reason to think you need one. He will be here to go with you when Ratchet releases you from his care."

Barricade nodded, and Optimus turned to go back out as Ratchet beckoned to Barricade and headed towards the back of the med bay.

When they got there, Ratchet was lifting the canopy on a recharge chamber, and Barricade wasted no time in climbing in, for although he would never have admitted it, he was feeling fatigued. Since learning that the other Decepticons on Earth were dead, and that no more were likely to arrive, all his attempts at recharge by shutdown had been sabotaged by his own subconscious fear of being alone bringing him out of shutdown just an hour or two into it. Ratchet closed the canopy lid, and as the recharge mechanism activated, Barricade's processors slowed down as the recharge began.

oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo oOo

When he awoke, feeling better than he had in months, he was at first confused, not sure where he was, but when Ratchet lifted the lid to let him out, he remembered. He went with Ratchet who, as promised, allowed him to stay online, but disconnected his sensory linkages to make the repairs on him one bit at a time. Once Ratchet had done this, deep-scanned Barricade, fixed anything he had missed, and deep-scanned him again, he gave a nod.

"Okay, you're in good repair now, but don't forget to come into recharge when you need it." He stated. Barricade sat up from his prone position on Ratchet's worktable, and stood.

"Your companion is outside, waiting to give you a base-orientation tour, and then take you into the rec-room and the Armoury to meet people and get your weapons checked by Ironhide." Ratchet said. As Barricade started towards the door, he called after him. "Oh, Barricade?"

Barricade stopped and turned towards the medic.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Welcome to the Base." Ratchet said, then turned back to his next task.

Barricade came out of the med-bay, and looked with a mixture of disbelief and amusement at the mech who was stood outside waiting for him.

"You're my assigned guard?" he asked the mech. The mech nodded.

"I am." He stated. "I am to show you about the Base, and introduce you to people. My presence should avoid any unfortunate incidents. Although Optimus has informed everybody of your presence here, there are still a few who would react by instinct first before engaging their logic circuits."

Barricade chuckled. "I think that we will be causing some confusion amongst the other Autobots." He said with a smile. "Without even _trying_."

Prowl nodded, the ghost of a smile flickering across his features.

"It would seem so." He agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

A Need For Contact

A Need For Contact.

Chapter Three.

"By the way, I am designated Prowl." Stated the other black-and-white mech who, but for a slightly different alt-form, blunter hands, and a different head-shape and facial features, could have passed for Barricade's twin.

"Okay, Base orientation tour first, I think." Prowl said, turning. "We'll start outside and work our way in…."

After Prowl showed Barricade the car lot and open space, they came back inside, and Prowl stopped and turned to Barricade.

"Now, I shall take you to have your weapons checked over by Ironhide, and then I will take you to the rec room, where you can meet some of the others." He set off down the corridor, and Barricade followed.

Prowl reached a door, and went in, waving Barricade forward as he sent a databurst to Ironhide. The big weapons specialist came in, his optic ridges narrowing as he spotted them.

"Ironhide, I've brought Barricade in to have his weapons checked over, as Optimus asked.

"Yeah. Been 'specting you." The big mech replied. He headed over to a large work surface and stood behind it. He held out his hands.

"Yer weapons. Let's see 'em."

Barricade brought out his long rotating saw blade, which Ironhide looked over. He checked the joints, oiling them and checking that they moved freely, then moved his attention to the lethal cutting blades. He grunted.

"Some of these could do with sharpening." He reached under the table to a storage compartment, located the relevant materials, and bent his head to sharpen the aforementioned blades. Once he had done so, he asked Barricade to put the weapon away, and turned his attention to Barricade's forearm missile-launchers.

"I don't usually deploy these in bipedal form, they get in the way. If I'm at a distance, yes, I'll use them, but I prefer fighting close-up." Barricade stated.

"Well, they all seem in order." Ironhide said, nodding to Barricade to tuck them back away, which he did. "I won't bother checkin' yer hydraulics, Ratchet has probably done that, but I will take a look at yer claws." Ironhide said, holding his hands out.

Barricade extended his hands, and Ironhide took them firmly in his own, turning them over, carefully examining each claw-tipped digit. He nodded and released Barricade's wrists.

"They seem sharp enough, but if they blunt, I can sharpen them again for you." He said. He nodded again.

"I'm gonna tell you now that I don't trust you. Nothing personal, but we have had to fight you, opposite sides. In my book, trust needs to be earned." Ironhide finished up, fixing Barricade with a scowl.

Barricade's response was to laugh.

"I like you, Autobot." He said. "You would be a fool to trust me, although I have no intention of betraying you. You are correct, trust needs to be earned. I think yours will be difficult to earn, as you undoubtedly know my reputation for gaining trust, and then betraying it." He moved one hand in a flourish. "I look forward to the challenge. Even if I never gain your trust, I hope we can still work together."

Ironhide's response was a nod and a grunt, but Prowl, who had stood back to observe how the two interacted, could imagine Ironhide and Barricade embarking on a working relationship founded, if not on trust, on mutual respect. The two were suitably matched, Prowl mused-neither wasted time on dressing up how they felt, neither of the two used pretty words, just bluntly spoke their minds. They would know exactly where they stood with each other.

"Okay, I'll show you the crew quarters and your room, and the stores, then take you to the rec room to meet some of the others." Prowl said, leading Barricade out. As he had promised, he took Barricade down to show him where the stores were, showed him a room that had been quickly set up with a rest pallet, chair and storage area, and then took him up the corridor, pointing out doors and explaining where they led on the way.

As they approached the rec room, Prowl was surprised to see Bumblebee, his human friend sat in the palm of the hand curled to Bumblebee's chest, come in at the entrance. Bumblebee was an infrequent visitor to the Base, and Prowl hoped that Optimus had not neglected to tell the young scout about their guest. Prowl quickly stood between Bumblebee and Barricade as the yellow scout registered the latter and adapted a defensive stance.

"Bumblebee, did Optimus not inform you of Barricade's presence here?" Prowl asked. Bumblebee nodded.

"He did, but I was not expecting to see him so soon. I reacted on instinct." He looked down worriedly at Sam, who had also noticed Barricade, and was anxiously watching while grabbing onto one of Bumblebee's digits with both hands.

"I won't hurt you or your fleshy friend." Barricade said, stepping to one side of Prowl. "Why would I want to? The AllSpark is gone, I have no orders to destroy any of you, and I am accepting your hospitality. Why fight when there is no need?" he asked, spreading his hands.

"Well, okay, if Optimus has said you are welcome here, then I trust his judgement. Just stay away from Sam!" Bumblebee said, striding past. "Sam wants to tell Optimus something, excuse me."

Prowl just shrugged and turned in to the rec room, pausing just inside the door.

Directly in front of them were two mechs, one red, one yellow, throwing pointed projectiles at a marked target board. At the other end of the table was a green table with red and yellow balls on it, and there was another door in the opposite wall. Various-sized blocks provided seats, around which several people were seated, obviously having a discussion. It was Jazz, the silver bot near the green table, who raised one quadradactyl hand and called "Yo, Prowl, hello Barricade!"

Everybody stopped what they were doing at Jazz's shout, and turned as one to regard the two new arrivals. There was a short bark of laughter from Hound, who was amongst the assorted seated 'bots, and then a voice spoke up.

"I thought there was only _one_ set of twins on this base, and that they were red and yellow." The comment was said in a voice edged with both tenseness and humour.

Both Prowl and Barricade turned to look at the speaker, a small purple 'bot, about nine feet tall, whose wheels proclaimed her alt-form to be a motorbike. Arcee's body was tense as she took a couple of steps forward, although her face wore a smile.

Her comment provoked another bark of laughter from Hound, as Sideswipe took a step forward as well, matched by his twin a moment later.

"Okay, which one's which?" asked Sideswipe with a small, mischievous

grin.

"That's easy, brother." Said Sunstreaker with an equally cheeky smile. "The good-looking one's Barricade."

Prowl stepped forwards and gave Sunstreaker a good-natured shove. "Watch it!" he said.

"What's he doing here anyway?" asked Cliffjumper, the small red mech, pushing forwards and regarding Barricade suspiciously. "I came here to relax, not to watch my back!"

"Cliffjumper!" snapped Prowl. "Shut your vocal unit and cast your processors back to Optimus Prime's last announcement. If you can't spend your recreation time in the same room as Barricade, I can always give you some extra patrol assignments to get you away from him."

Cliffjumper took a step back.

"Uh, no sir, that won't be necessary, I'll get used to it I guess." He said. Prowl turned to see how Barricade had reacted to Cliffjumper's statement, and realised that Barricade had not even noticed Cliffjumper's comment, or anything else, for that matter, for Barricade only had optics for Arcee, who was watching him cautiously.


	5. Chapter 5

A Need For Contact.

Epilogue.

A.N/Warning: Contains slashy smut. If you don't like it, do not read this.

Six months later.

Optimus Prime looked up as a databurst informed him that Barricade wanted to speak to him. He put aside the report he was compiling-there was not much to report and he still had a half-orn in which to complete it-and bid the ex-Decepticon enter.

Barricade stepped in with the easy self-assurance he had developed since getting used to living in the Autobot base amongst former enemies. He had integrated fairly well, Optimus mused, as Barricade came and stood before his desk. It seemed that once Barricade got used to it, he could follow orders even when the one issuing them had changed. Once, this mech had answered to Megatron, then he had answered to Starscream. Now both of these were dead, and there was little other choice, he took his orders from Optimus.

"Optimus Prime." The other addressed him formally, inclining his head towards him. "When you first brought me in, you made me an offer, a promise."

It took just an astrosecond for Optimus to cast his mind back to the conversation Barricade was referring to, as Barricade confirmed it was the correct one, saying "I am here due to want, not need, curiosity, not loneliness. I am here to ask you to deliver on that promise." Barricade raised his head to look Optimus in the optics, red meeting blue.

Optimus retracted his battle mask, smiled gently and nodded: the almost arrogant manner in which Barricade had delivered his request told Optimus that Barricade spoke truthfully: he had no further reason to deny Barricade that which he now sort. He idly recalled that Arcee did not seem to have had any complaints regarding Barricade's performance: she had voiced none anyway.

Optimus stood and walked out from behind his desk, and Barricade also moved to close the distance between them. Hands reached out, met, slid up the arms of the other. Another step, and the hands moved further up as the bodies almost met. One of Barricade's hands left Optimus' lower arm, lifted to come to rest on the lower edge of his abdominal grille, the other clung to the edge of his wrist gauntlet, his head tilted up to look Optimus in the optics.

Barricade's head was about level with Optimus' lower abdomen. This would not do. He could take Barricade over to the berth and sit him on it, but it might seem patronising, or he could lie them both on their sides on the berth, or lie back with Barricade on top, but again was not sure if the interruption might destroy the enjoyable spontaneity of the moment. Optimus could only see one action that shouldn't interrupt anything, but make things easier, and might even appeal to Barricade's Decepticon sensibilities.

He carefully wrapped big hands gently around the point at which Barricade's arms joined his torso, and carefully got down onto his knees.

He noted the glint in Barricade's optics as he locked his knees to keep himself in that position-Barricade _was_ enjoying the idea of the Autobot leader kneeling before him. Optimus felt Barricade draw his hand down his grillework, and Optimus gasped and tensed at the sensation, which stung slightly but was more sensual than painful. Barricade's other hand easily slipped under his wrist gauntlet plating, and begun pulling and teasing at wires and cabling, something that also sent sensation buzzing up the arm to the shoulder and neck.

Enough. It was time Optimus responded with a few touches of his own. He moved one of his hands from Barricade's shoulders to one of the little shoulder wing-windows, stroking the edges with just the tips of his first finger and thumb, an action that made Barricade jerk, by which point Optimus' other hand had slid to his back and pressed with enough force to keep Barricade's chest plastered to his own. Barricade's pointed head sensors were level with Optimus' chin, and Optimus dipped his chin to put his mobile metal lips about them and press them between them, his mouth's internal mechanisms teasing them, an action that brought a loud groan from Barricade's vocaliser. Optimus felt Barricade's hands tighten reflexively on both his grille and wiring, slightly painful but not unbearably so. He let it go unmentioned. He'd live.

"Y-you must know those are s-sensitive th-that's n-not _f-fair!"_ Barricade stuttered out of his vocaliser, although the tone of it was not really one of complaint. Optimus smiled with his lips still imprisoning Barricade's head-sensors, the action stimulating them further and making Barricade buck. He was grateful for the fact that his vocaliser could work independently of his mouth as he spoke in response.

"The humans have a phrase to cover that accusation. I believe it is 'All's fair in love and war.'"

As his lips finally relinquished their hold on Barricade's sensor-spikes, he drew his hand sharply down Barricade's back plating, an action that made Barricade gasp and buck again. Sliding his fingers under the edge of the backplate, Optimus moved the digit gently back and forth to carefully, gently, caress the internal mechanisms beneath. He did not want to hurt Barricade, even inadvertently, so did not push the big digit in any further.

The hand under Optimus' wrist plating abruptly moved to trace the segmented plating on his back. Barricade's hands, clawed though they were, were smaller and daintier than Optimus' big blunt digits, and Barricade slid an entire hand under one of the sections of plating, the other hand moving from the grillework up to Optimus' chest, near the middle, lightly touching one of Optimus' door edges with a claw tip, and then drawing it down.

Optimus twitched at the double-sided assault, a stuttering cry escaping his vocaliser as Barricade grinned. Barricade's hand under the plating found and teased more wires and cabling and tubing, rolling it between two digits, other digits threading under and between the bundled wiring, tugging at it not painfully, but teasingly. Barricade reached his head up as Optimus tossed his head back in response to the stimulation of his internals, and Barricade reached up to press his mouth and teeth against Optimus' neck joint, an action that first made Optimus squeal in a most un-Primely manner, then reduced his vocalisation to Sparkling-like clicking.

Optimus' own hand withdrew the finger from under Barricade's plating and it moved to strike and caress first Barricade's back, and then his aft and back again. His other hand moved to caress and stroke Barricade's own neck-plating, and Barricade's mouth lost its contact with Optimus' neck as he reacted by throwing his own head back, his vocaliser letting out a guttural cry of arousal.

Optimus resumed stroking Barricade's window-wings with his other hand – if Prowl and Bumblebee were any indicator, such 'wings' were sensitive. He had particularly enjoyed seeing Bumblebee collapse and squirm when the Twins had decided to tickle the young scout's wings mercilessly in the rec-room one day. Barricade's pleasured writhing against him told Optimus that he had deduced correctly. He released the tightness of his arm around Barricade, allowing the other to slip back a few inches, and moved the hand gently to Barricade's chest. He eased open the bull-bars, and slowly slipped two digits into the space previously occupied by Frenzy.

Barricade's reaction was silent but not understated. He jerked as Optimus fingers filled the empty space, his optics shuttering and unshuttering, the light in them flickering on and off as Barricade headed towards overload. Optimus wiggled the fingers to make them brush lightly along the sensitive surfaces of the compartment, and although Optimus was kneeling, he was the dominant partner in this encounter. Barricade drew his hand out from under Optimus' back plating and it joined the first, which had slipped from the door-edge, in scrabbling against Optimus' chest in reaction. Barricade's Spark pulsed, and his chest plating began to separate and spread, something that Optimus noticed immediately. He withdrew his fingers from the chest compartment, used the hand to guide one of Barricade's twitching hands to Optimus' own chest catches. Barricade collected enough of his arousal-scattered wits to release the catches Optimus had guided him to, and once he had, Optimus pressed together their separating chest-structures.

One hand held Barricade in place, the other stroked up and down Barricade's side, and Barricade's own hands moved tremblingly to Optimus' own side seams to touch and caress. As their Sparks began moving towards each other, Optimus unlocked his knees, squatting down on his own legs, drawing Barricade onto his lap, and allowed his body to lie out.

It was just in time. Their Sparks moved towards each other, and touched, and both Optimus and Barricade's last coherent thoughts were blasted into oblivion as they both hit overload at the same moment. Neither were aware that both their vocalisers and their vehicle horns were sounding, they were aware of little other than the waves of pleasure that rushed through their systems and overwhelmed their processors, sending them into shutdown, and the light, the beautiful pure Sparklight created by their briefly-joined Sparks.

Then, even that was gone as their systems cycled into shutdown.

A few minutes later, Optimus rebooted, and his optics unshuttered. He looked down, to see Barricade was still in the middle of rebooting himself. He waited, watching, until the smaller mech shifted, unshuttering his optics, and then slid off Optimus so the latter could straighten up.

They both stood, and Optimus drew some energon, one for himself and one for Barricade. They drank in silence, for there was no need for words. Barricade finished his energon, putting the cup on Optimus' desk. Then he spoke.

"I have patrol in half a joor. I should go and get ready. Perhaps another time we can do that again?"

Optimus nodded.

"Certainly." He said. Barricade nodded, turned and left, a little unsteadily. Optimus watched Barricade leave, then found a chair big enough to seat himself in.

He smiled as he thought back over their encounter.

Just like Arcee, he had no complaints at all.


	6. Chapter 6

Epilogue 2: Further Contact.

A/N This chapter is a giftfic for Dendey, who is also known as CMO Wishmaster of the Nerdene Hyrde. Now she asked me for this fic, and I have learned that in general, what the CMO wants, the CMO gets, it's just far more comfortable for you if you do as asked from the start. Also, thanks to KD Zeal who helped beta read this and helped when I got stuck.

So, without further ado, here is the giftfic chapter.

Further Contact.

Prowl sat in the rec room, drinking his energon and watching the other, as he came in and spoke first to the Twins and gave a nod to Arcee, who was on her way out. As Barricade moved around to speak to Jazz, Prowl's optics followed him around the room, quietly admiring the smoothness of his movements, courtesy of his hydraulic joints, and the gleam of his paintwork, so similar yet subtly different to his own.

The Decepticon shield was gone from Barricade's armour, replaced by the Nevada county shield. Although Barricade had evidently decided his Decepticon affiliation was needless when there were no more Decepticons likely to come to Earth, he had also not taken up the Autobot shield.

Barricade was, Prowl thought, something of an enigma. It was loneliness and the fear of being alone that had originally kept the former Decepticon in their Base, - although Prowl hoped that it was now more than that - but it was his fierce independence that set him aside from the others. He accepted their hospitality, but did not feel bound by that to join their side, and Prowl respected that. Not only was it the more difficult choice for an individual to make, it meant that Prowl knew where he and the others stood with Barricade. He was no longer their enemy, but neither was he their bosom friend.

He realised that he had been staring at Barricade so long that the other had noticed. His time of being a guard/guide was over: he had no legitimate reason to be watching Barricade like a hawk.

He broke the optic contact with Barricade, walking and getting himself more energon, before heading into the chill-out room which was, as he had expected, empty at this time. The truth was, Prowl found – in fact, always had found - Barricade highly attractive. His independence, self-assurance and arrogance could be off-putting to some, but for Prowl, it had the other effect. Strangely, it just made the ex-Decepticon that much more desirable, but Prowl wasn't sure how to approach Barricade, and also feared that to admit his feelings would leave him open to the pain of Barricade's possible rejection.

He moved further into the chill-out room, so lost in thought that he didn't notice the other enter a few minutes later, he didn't realise he was no longer alone until Barricade put his hand on Prowl's arm.

"Why were you staring at me out there, Prowl?" the other black and white mech asked, as blunt and direct as always. The hand held his arm so tightly that he could not pull away, but not so tight as to cause pain.

"I…I apologise. I was preoccupied." Said Prowl.

"You didn't answer my question." Barricade said. He reached over and took the energon Prowl was holding and put it to one side. Then he locked his optics with Prowl's.

"Why were you staring at me?"

Prowl opened his mouth but no words came out. He _couldn't_ tell the other his feelings just like that. He couldn't look away from Barricade's own stare, and he cycled his vents a little, searching for words. Something must have shown on his face or optics, for Barricade suddenly grabbed Prowl by the shoulders and pulled him forwards, bringing them into contact, chest to chest.

Prowl's hands reflexively came up but the push against Barricade's chest was half-hearted, and stopped entirely as Barricade moved one hand from Prowl's shoulder to delicately caress the edge of one of his doorwings. Prowl gasped, and Barricade allowed his mouth to curve in a knowing yes sensuous smile, a smile that Prowl foud way too distracting.

"Or maybe this is it?" asked Barricade. "They say you don't express your feelings, but you must have then, just like any mech. Happiness, sadness, fear, desire….." he tailed off, then spoke again. "Is that it, Prowl, do you want me? If I'm wrong, just tell me to stop, tell me to go, and I shall." Barricade locked his optics with Prowl's again, the look challenging, as his mouth widened in a grin.

'_Pit! He __**knows**__, but __**how?**__' _Prowl thought, his processors whirling, not just with the fact that Barricade knew, but that the other black and white mech did not seem to be rejecting the idea. In fact…he seemed to be…encouraging him? Challenging him? Maybe _daring_ him?

Prowl didn't make any move or voice any word at first, and when he

did respond, it wasn't verbally. His hands moved from where they lay on Barricade's chest down to the junction of his body with his hips, the motion caressing.

It was the only answer Barricade needed. As one hand slid up and down the edge of Prowl's doorwing, the other moved up from the shoulder to pull Prowl's head forwards so he could kiss him. Dermaplates met and were pressed together as Barricade firmly initiated the kiss, his glossa probing the edges of Prowl's dermaplates. Prowl was quick to open them to allow their glossas to twine. One of his hands moved up, eager to examine the chassis both so like and yet unlike his own, as a passion-driven whine escaped his vocaliser. His hands tightened reflexively on Barricade's outer thighs, his digit tips catching onto the seams.

Once he and Prowl were fully engaged in the kiss, there was no further need to exert pressure on Prowl's head. Barricade kept caressing the doorwing with one hand while trailing the claws of the other down Prowl's back, the stimulation making Prowl shiver and twitch. The hand lingered briefly over the body/hip juncture but then moved down surely and then the hand curled itself around one side of Prowl's aft, the touch going from light to firm in an astrosecond.

Prowl's own hands had begun gliding up and down Barricade's plating, feeling the edges and seams so very different to his own. He found an exposed cable and stroked it, heard Barricade gasp in surprise and pleasure, and kept one hand caressing it while the other moved upwards.

"You like that?" he asked, a question he wasn't really expecting to be answered, at least not verbally, and then he squirmed at the aft-grab, but retaliated by grabbing hold of one of Barricade's shoulder-wings and stroking the glass. It was Barricade who broke the kiss at this point as he bucked and threw his head back, and Prowl took advantage of this to plant his dermaplates on Barricade's neck juncture and run his glossa over the seams.

Barricade's hand left Prowl's aft to mimic its opposite number on Prowl's other doorwing. He trailed his claws down the inner surfaces, drawing them towards the attachment seams and hinges. He lightly brushed the sensitive junctures with his claws, and Prowl squealed and bucked at the teasing caresses, his dermaplates losing contact with Barricade's neck. In an optic-shutter, Barricade moved his hand until it was under Prowl's chin, pushing the head firmly but not brutally back and to the side. Then Barricade bent his head to Prowl's neck seams, licking and gently biting, while still stimulating the back/door junctures.

Prowl cried out at the stimulation, and stuttered out something that sounded like "Oh, _Primus, _Barricade!_"_ as Barricade's fingers teased and tickled at the hinges. Barricade's arms suddenly tightened as his leg whipped around to hook both Prowl's legs out from under him. Barricade pushed down as Prowl overbalanced, throwing his arms out in an attempt to brace himself for the fall but there was no need, Barricade was controlling their descent, his strong hydraulic joints taking Prowl's weight, his knees bending to lower them both, and he bore the Autobot down to the floor.

Prowl felt his back placed on the floor, then felt Barricade pin him there as the other lay atop him, holding his arms down with his hands. The hands moved to caress Prowl's palms, and Barricade bent to kiss Prowl again, firmly, hungrily, and Prowl responded in kind. As Prowl's hands pushed past Barricade's, and rose to squeeze and caress Barricade's shoulder-wheels, Barricade's digits went to rub against Prowl's neck joint as his legs squeezed one of Prowl's own between them.

Prowl twitched and his spark pulsed, and Barricade's pulsed in reaction. That combined with the stimulation already being given was all that was needed to send them both into overload, Prowl first, followed swiftly by Barricade. Cries came from their vocal processors, and Prowl's horn sounded, but the stimulation was not enough for them to lose control of the functioning flashing lights and sirens of their police vehicle alt-modes.

It was Barricade who came out from it first, and he grasped Prowl's head in his hands and gazed upon it, before Prowl twitched and began to come back online. Barricade loosened his grip and trailed a claw around the edge of each of Prowl's audio processors. Prowl twitched again in response, but reached his own hands up to the back of Barricade's head, his digits trailing up the back until they stroked up the sensor-spikes at the top of Barricade's head.

Barricade squealed, and his engine sputtered into life and began to rev, and he bucked on top of Prowl, his own caressing digits stopping, stalling, as the highly sensitive sensor-tips flooded his processors with pleasure. Lowering his head, he eased himself down on Prowl, carefully easing himself down until he could run his fingers and glossa over Prowl's chest clasps. Prowl moaned softly beneath him at this, managing to start his own engine, trying to match his rhythm as closely as possible to that of Barricade's engine, but did not stop his attentions to Barricade's head sensory arrangement, something Barricade was both pleased and annoyed about. Pleased because Primus! it sent such lovely sensations down him, but annoyed because that same pleasure was slagging _distracting!_

He was suddenly even more distracted when Prowl craned his neck up to lick over the sensors with his glossa too. Barricade froze as he tried to organise his processors to think around the flood of pleasure Prowl's glossa was teasing from his sensors.

"I can play dirty too." Barricade managed to hoarsely get out, reaching his hands up to grasp and caress Prowl's own sensor-horns. A gasp and a pause in the glossal teasing of his own spikes told Barricade that Prowl's chevrons were as sensitive as his own sensor-crown. Returning his glossa to tease Prowl's chest-clasps, his clever, sure hands busily rubbed and caressed the brow horns of the tactician, who was reduced to crying out and clicking like a sparkling, well beyond words.

As Barricade felt Prowl's clasps loosen suddenly, he brought one of his hands down to tug at his own clasps. He abandoned Prowl's sensor spikes only long enough to slide himself back up until their chests were level. It was all that was needed in their heightened state to trigger the automatic separation of the chest plates causing their sparks to rise towards each other. Their hands no longer hovered on the sensors, but roved over arms and shoulders. Then they both stiffened, as their sparks merged, clutching at each other, crying out, their engine revs climbing to an unbroken roar, the sound followed astroseconds later by their sirens sounding at full blast and their lights flashing, lighting up the room in surreal flickers of red and blue. Both Barricade and Prowl were totally unaware of this as they flew into full overload.

As they briefly came back online, Barricade carefully slid off Prowl, and carefully, tenderly gathered him into his arms. Prowl responded by resting one hand on Barricade's side and putting the other on his chest. He nuzzled into the other's shoulder, murmured something quietly that made the other chuckle a bit.

"Time to recharge. Maybe when we wake we'll do it all again." Barricade said. He relaxed one arm, bringing the hand round with one finger extended to trail a claw along the edge of Prowl's chin, and then up to trace around his dermaplates, then dropped the hand and put the arm back where it had been, around Prowl's chassis. Prowl smiled and snuggled further into Barricade's arms.

They stayed like that as they slid into recharge together.


End file.
